


Eights and Sevens

by Deastar



Series: They Say Love Heals All Wounds [12]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Psychics/Psionics, Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-10 20:15:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10446504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deastar/pseuds/Deastar
Summary: Geno and Sid make googly eyes at each other, almost scandalize the neighbors, and decide to try rimming. Mostly that last part.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This picks up right after "A Mutually Pleasurable Consensual Experience," and the first few hundred words or so probably won't make much sense without having read that first. After that point, it's just shameless porn, so you should be able to follow along regardless.

Eventually, Sid and Geno do have to do responsible stuff: get up, eat, shower, show up at training and try not to annoy Andy and Kadar by being too mushy. Sid thinks they’re pretty successful at the first few things; the fact that Andy rolls his eyes at them like five times during weights indicates that they probably weren’t so successful at the last.

“Sorry,” Sid mumbles at Andy at the end of the day, when he’s about to hit the showers.

Andy just rolls his eyes again. “For what? Being adorable?” He gives Sid a wry smile and says, “If you guys train together, you get googly-eyed… but if we separated you, you’d mope, and I’d way rather have the googly eyes than the pining.”

Sid blushes. “I would not _pine_ ,” he mutters on principle, but he’s full of shit and they both know it.

He also wouldn’t describe the looks Geno has been giving him as “googly-eyed.” Geno has been looking at Sid like… well. Like he’s having a lot of really detailed thoughts about what he’s going to do with Sid as soon as they’re alone.

So that’s pretty great.

Geno keeps those thoughts to himself, though, until after they finish training and enjoy a steak dinner out on the back porch. After drinking the final mouthful of wine in his glass, Geno leans back in his chair and gives Sid another heated look. “I think we go inside now, Sid,” he murmurs, intent.

Sid bites his lip, trying not to grin. “Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

Geno holds Sid’s gaze as he says, “I think neighbors gonna complain if I take your clothes off out here.”

“Is that what you’re going to be doing?” Sid asks, his smile curling into a smirk. “Taking my clothes off?”

Geno raises an eyebrow and leans forward. Low, he says, “Is where I’m gonna _start_.”

 _Fuck_. Sid’s dick twitches. Leaning forward to match Geno, until they’re just a few inches apart, he murmurs, “You’ve got a plan, huh?”

“Yes, Sid,” Geno replies with a grin of his own. “Sexy plan.”

“And what’s that?” Sid asks, watching Geno closely.

Geno draws in a slow breath through his nose, like he’s judging the aroma of a glass of wine – like there’s something in front of him to savor. “Plan is, I kiss you until you make little noises like you forget your English, too, like me,” he says, the words spooling out of his mouth slow and hungry, before speeding up as he says, rougher, “and then you put your dick in me, you _come_ in me, Sid.”

Yeah, they really need to fucking go inside, because Sid is about two seconds away from sticking his hand down his pants in front of their neighbors.

“That’s a really good plan,” he tells Geno, breathless. Then his better judgment catches up with his dick, and he blurts out, “Aren’t you… uh, sore?”

At first, he wants to smack himself— _way to ruin the mood, Sid_ —but with a second to think about it, he decides that it’s a totally reasonable question. Sid doesn’t kid himself that he has such a huge dick or whatever, but it’s bigger than fingers, and this morning was the first time in more than a year that Geno had had anything inside him.

Geno chews on his lower lip for a second and then admits, grudgingly, “A _little_ sore.”

“Uh-huh.” Sid ducks his head, trying to catch Geno’s gaze. “And if I fuck you again tonight, is that gonna make you more than ‘a little’ sore?”

Geno scowls. “Maybe,” he allows. He heaves a sigh and says, “You not gonna do plan, huh?”

“Tomorrow night, for sure, we can do your plan,” Sid promises, hoping that helps. “And it’s not that I don’t want to. It’s _really_ not that,” he repeats fervently, although Geno should know that – Sid knows he can read Sid’s arousal through the bond.

“It’s that…” Sid sets his shoulders and makes himself speak bluntly, so there’ll be no misunderstanding. “Look, if I pushed inside you, and you—you flinched… it would mess me up really bad, Geno,” he says in a rush, the words thick in his mouth—even imagining it makes him sick. “ _Really_ bad. I don’t want to be a drag,” he adds, defensive, “and maybe I am, but I’d rather be a drag than hurt you. Because I would…” Sid bites his lip and looks at the table. Low, he says, “I think it would take me a long time to touch you again after that.”

“Oh, Sid,” Geno murmurs, almost to himself. He stands up, and tugs on Sid’s shoulder until Sid rises to join him, then enfolds Sid in his arms and lets out a long exhale. “No, not good you hurt me,” he rumbles against Sid’s ear. “So I’m not let, okay? I promise.”

Sid lets out an exhale of his own. “Okay. Thank you.” Even if Geno _does_ think he’s a drag, he’s not going to push, and that means the world to Sid.

“Is not for thank. Is for both.” Geno squeezes him tight for a second, then admits, rueful, “I’m not want more sore, either – I’m just, uh… what is word for have idea and then keep idea even when somebody show you is stupid?”

“Um, stubborn?” Sid offers.

“Yes, I’m most stubborn,” Geno agrees, craning his neck back so he can make a face at Sid. “But you right. Sore already, is not good we do.”

They share a soft kiss, and then Geno turns to the table and starts gathering up dishes just like normal. Sid joins him, and he’s glad to have something to do with his hands, because his head is still swimming a little from the unexpected stress of such a tough conversation.

Geno seemed on board with what Sid was saying, once Sid explained it, and that was great. But Sid still does kind of feel like a drag. He knows Geno’s not doing it on purpose, but it’s still pretty obvious that he’s feeling disappointed. As they clear the table, Sid can see that Geno’s shoulders are a little slumped, and the corners of his mouth twitch downward every so often.

“Hey,” Sid says softly, laying his hand on Geno’s arm, “I’m really sorry that we can’t do it tonight. I—”

But Geno shakes his head and pulls Sid close to press a kiss to his forehead. “Not sorry, Sid – you right, okay? I’m just mad at me for not think and… little bit disappoint to wait,” he admits, which stings even though Sid was expecting it. “Is so new, you touch me there, so excite – I want again right away,” he explains, before wrinkling up his nose and adding, self-deprecating, “Is silly, I know.”

“Hey, no, that’s not silly at all,” Sid protests, and he drops his shields to make sure Geno knows how much he means it. “It’s awesome. It makes me feel really good, G,” he emphasizes, stroking his hand down Geno’s chest, “hearing that you liked it so much that you want to do it again right away. And it’s hot,” he adds, as his cheeks flush. He’d feel self-conscious about it, except that Geno doesn’t make any secret of how much he likes it when Sid blushes – true to form, Geno beams at him and kisses Sid’s red cheeks.

“So nice,” he coos, giving Sid a few more quick kisses before turning to load the dishwasher.

Sid turns his attention to kitchen chores, too, but his mind is clicking away at Geno’s disappointment, trying to think if there’s a way Sid can fix it without doing anything that would make him uncomfortable. He lets his brain worry away at it in the background while he finishes up in the kitchen and then follows Geno into the living room to keep him company while he makes agonizingly detailed plans for his fantasy football draft.

Geno is perfectly happy to narrate his internal monologue without any participation from Sid, and Sid, for his part, enjoys the sound of his voice even when he’s not paying much attention to what Geno’s actually saying.

Geno strokes his thumb over the outside of Sid’s thigh while explaining, “Last year I give three points in draft rankings for Steelers because Steelers best but then I don’t make playoffs so this year I think have to be more… hardass, is how you say? Have to be win first, not so much feelings and fan-things, so I think maybe no extra points for Steelers, but… Steelers best, Sid! So maybe… two points? So hard to decide,” he mutters, and peers darkly at his laptop screen.

“Mm, s’tough,” Sid agrees, mostly on autopilot. He’s got an idea, but he’s not sure Geno is going to go for it.

An idea about the sex stuff, not about the fantasy football draft. Sid’s got nothing on the football thing.

He needs some time to psych himself up, though, so he fucks around on his phone, arguing with Taylor about pizza toppings, until Geno shuts his laptop with a sigh. “Bed?” he asks Sid.

Sid nods. As they stand up, he says, a little nervously, “I was thinking about it, and I actually had an idea. For your plan.”

Geno perks up, making a pleased sound in the back of his throat. He prompts, “Yes? Idea?” as they walk through the kitchen into the hallway.

Sid clears his throat. “Well, you said you wanted more, um, ass stuff,” he says, feeling his cheeks turn pink again, “and I thought maybe, if you still want that kind of thing, I could—I could rim you, if you wanted. I know it wouldn’t be the same as me fucking you, for sure, but it would be… maybe closer, anyway.” He trails off, biting his lip, and quickly glances up at Geno’s face.

Oddly, Geno looks a little bit embarrassed, which Sid doesn’t understand until Geno stops just inside the bedroom door and asks, apologetically, “Sorry, um…. what is ‘rim,’ Sid?”

Sid resists the urge to smack himself on the forehead. Geno is usually pretty familiar with sexual terminology in English, so he hadn’t thought to explain it, but obviously he should have. He tries not to let the fact that Geno _hasn’t_ heard of rimming make him feel like a weirdo – Geno hadn’t heard of intercrural before they tried it, either, and he’d thought _that_ was pretty great, so whatever.

The problem now, though, is that Sid has to figure out how to explain rimming without blushing so hard he passes out. He sinks down onto the side of the bed and fumbles out, “It’s, uh… I would, um, lick you.”

Geno just looks even more confused. “Is blowjob, yes?” he asks, tentative.

“Uh, no, not licking your dick. Um… licking your—your ass. Um, your asshole,” Sid explains, drowning in embarrassment and aware that he’s not exactly doing the best job of making this sound sexy. Trying to salvage things, he continues, “And, uh, putting my tongue—inside. You know. But only if you wanted me to,” he adds hurriedly.

“Inside—” Geno starts to ask, and then the pin drops. “Like… like go down on girl,” he double-checks, wide-eyed.

“I wouldn’t know,” Sid points out, dry. “But… yeah, as far as I can tell.”

Geno sinks down on the side of the bed next to Sid. “Huh,” he says. He’s quiet for a little while, then says, “You think of this just now, Sid?” before answering his own question, “No, you have word, so you know before. Huh.” He turns to watch Sid’s face. “You know about before, I think, but—you think about with me? Think of do this?”

“I—yeah. Especially, um, recently,” Sid adds. “Recently I’ve been thinking about it a lot.”

Geno makes an inquiring noise, so Sid explains, haltingly, “I, uh… I really love it when you—when you blow me. It feels really, _really_ good, and I want to make _you_ feel good like that, with my mouth… but with a blowjob, I’m not—I’m not ready. And I feel bad about that.” Sid knows he _shouldn’t_ feel bad, and that Geno doesn’t mind, but the feeling is there just the same. “So I’ve been thinking about this, instead—about rimming you—and I know it’s not the same, but I thought maybe…” Sid shrugs. “Maybe it would be something, at least, that I could do for you with my mouth. So it’s not so—so one-way.”

Geno nods, accepting that. “I’m _not_ think about before,” he says, which isn’t a surprise, “and I’m not…” He bites his lip, and starts again, “Don’t know how to think, you know. Is… is a little funny, think of this, honest. You really want, Sid?”

Sid feels a pulse of humiliation and ducks his head to stare at the floor, unable to meet Geno’s eyes. He should have known, when he realized that Geno hadn’t even _heard_ of rimming, that it was a step too far. Geno wouldn’t want something like that, and he probably thinks—who even knows what he thinks of _Sid_ for wanting it. He should have just shut his mouth and not—

“Hey, hey,” Geno says, his voice low and careful, “you hurting, Sid, and I don’t know why.” He rests a careful hand on Sid’s lower back. “What I say, Sid? I’m sorry, for whatever, you know…”

“You think it’s weird,” Sid starts, eyes still fixed on the ground, and Geno interrupts him.

“Weird’s not mean bad, Sid. Just different.”

“B-but you asked if I really wanted it,” Sid stammers out, “like you couldn’t believe I could want something so—” _Dirty. Wrong._

“No, I’m not—I’m not mean like that. Sid, hey,” Geno says, low and gentle, “look at me.”

So Sid does. He looks over at Geno’s familiar, beloved face, and he can’t see even a trace of disgust there. Just warm affection, and concern. Holding Sid’s gaze, Geno reaches over to lace his fingers through Sid’s and says quietly, “So… this is what I mean, Sid.” He pauses, and Sid can see him choosing his words carefully. “I hear you say you want to do _for me_ , and you say a little bit like you think… you don’t blow me so you have to do this for make up to me, and… make me a little nervous, Sid, when you talk like you gonna use sex for make up to me.” He squeezes Sid’s hand for a second. “So I want to know if you really want, for you, or if this is like guilt-breakfast, but… guilt-sex, maybe.”

“Oh,” Sid says, startled. Shit, he hadn’t even thought of that. “Oh. No, this isn’t—this isn’t about guilt, or something that I would, like, _make_ myself do, just for you.” Although he can see how Geno might have thought that – Sid will admit he doesn’t have the best track record there. He tries to think of how to set Geno straight, and a memory from earlier in the day comes back to him. He scoots a little closer to Geno on the bed, and says, “You remember this morning, when I told you it wasn’t fair that you had to be the one to ask for sex stuff all the time? And I said I was going to be better about asking for the stuff I wanted?” Geno nods. “Well… this is me asking.” Sid makes sure to meet Geno’s eyes when he says it… and he manages it for about two seconds before he starts to worry that maybe he’s pushing. Quickly, he looks down and says, “Just because I’m asking doesn’t mean you have to say yes—”

“Yes.”

“So you should—oh.” Sid blinks at Geno, startled for the second time tonight. “Yes? You—you’re sure?”

“Sure I’m gonna like?” Geno shrugs. “No, not sure I’m gonna like. But sure I want to try, if you want.”

“And you—this isn’t just for me, is it?” Sid checks, watching Geno closely. “Because _both_ of us should—”

“Not just for you, Sid.” Geno smiles at Sid – just a little half-smile, crooked with nerves, but sincere. “I want. Little bit nervous, but. I want.”

“That’s… that’s awesome, G,” Sid says, smiling back, trying to make it as reassuring as he can – he’s kind of nervous himself, but the idea of rimming is a lot newer to Geno than it is to Sid, so it’s Sid's job to take the lead here. “Um, so do you want to try it now? Or do you want to take some time to get used to the idea? We can—”

Geno looks conflicted. “Want now, yes,” he says, a little embarrassed. “But don’t know about… clean, you know…”

“Oh!” Sid had read about this online – ways to put your partner at ease. “We could do it in the shower, if you want. Wash first, and then…”

“And then go down,” Geno says, relieved. “Yes. Is good.”

Being in a relationship for the first time has involved a lot of new experiences for Sid, some of which he imagined, and some of which he couldn’t have seen coming. The awesomeness that is the “shower with intent to fuck” is definitely the latter. He didn’t have any idea how fun it would be to see who could strip faster on their way into the bathroom, or how it would make him blush to feel Geno’s eyes on him as the water runs down his body. Sid showers around other naked guys all the time, but he didn’t know how sexy it would be to watch Geno’s hands glide over his own skin and realize that Sid’s own hands were welcome there.

Once they’re in the shower, Sid worries a little that he’s distracting Geno by kissing him so much, but it’s hard to keep his hands to himself. And anyway, Geno doesn’t seem to mind – when his lips meet Sid’s, they’re always turned up in a smile.

Eventually, he pulls back and asks Sid, “Ready?”

“Yeah,” Sid says, breathless from a combination of anticipation and long, drawn-out kisses.

He sinks to his knees, and Geno turns to face the wall of the shower, asking, “Like this?” when he sticks his butt out. It’s a pretty fantastic view. Sid isn’t obsessed with Geno’s ass the way Geno is obsessed with Sid’s, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t appreciate a great ass when he sees one, and Geno has a fucking _great_ ass.

Sid murmurs, “Yeah, just like that,” and shuffles closer, dropping a kiss in the middle of Geno’s left asscheek. “You look so good,” he continues, because Geno should know that, and because he doesn’t want Geno to feel at all anxious about this. He wants Geno to feel safe, and comfortable, and loved.

When Sid had had fantasies about doing this, he’d pictured just kind of… diving in face-first, and having his hands free to stroke Geno’s perfect thighs. Now that he’s face-to-face—so to speak—with Geno’s big, thick hockey ass, Sid can see that that’s not going to work out, but it’s not a big deal. Having his hands full of Geno’s ass is only slightly less awesome than having his hands full of Geno’s thighs. When Sid settles his hands on Geno’s cheeks and starts to pull them apart, Geno shivers.

Sid stops and checks, “Good? You okay?”

“Good,” Geno affirms, and he shoves his ass back at Sid impatiently, so Sid grins and keeps going. With Geno’s asshole exposed to Sid’s view, Sid is forced to admit that Geno might have been onto something when he said that Sid’s own asshole was cute. The sight of it, so pink and vulnerable, makes Sid feel tender and possessive, all at once. _No one else gets to touch you here_ , he thinks, as something goes molten deep in his chest. _No one else gets to be inside you. No one else has that trust._

“Sid?” Geno asks.

Sid replies, truthfully, “Just admiring the view,” then leans in to run his tongue lightly, carefully, over that pink furl of skin.

Geno makes a strangled sound that Sid _thinks_ is good, thinks is surprise and pleasure, but he leans back to check. “Good?”

“Good, yes,” Geno agrees, so Sid gets back to work. He doesn’t exactly know what he’s doing, but he’s pretty sure there’s no _wrong_ way to give a rimjob, as long as the other person likes it, so he just sort of does whatever comes to mind. Quick licks with the tip of his tongue make Geno squirm; long, wet strokes with the flat of his tongue earn deep moans that sound like they’ve been pulled out of the base of Geno’s chest – the wetter Sid makes it, the deeper Geno moans. Sid even tries writing eights and sevens over Geno’s asshole with the tip of his tongue, and ends up a little embarrassed at the possessive thrill he gets from it. _You’re being ridiculous_ , he scolds himself, but it’s half-hearted – he’s having fun, and Geno seems to like it, and the rest doesn’t really matter, as long as those two things are true.

While Sid is in the middle of some slow, swirling licks, letting his eyes slip shut, he feels Geno’s hole quivering under his tongue, almost fluttering, and Sid has to pull back to catch his breath – _that’s so hot_ , he thinks, helplessly. He leans back in close to give Geno’s entrance a wet, sucking kiss—and when he feels Geno start to _open_ for Sid’s mouth, soft and trusting, a high-pitched moan rips out of Sid’s throat, totally out of his control. “Oh,” he gasps, “Oh, oh, _Geno_ ,” and dives back in, desperate to feel that yielding again. Sid tries everything he’s ever read about or thought of, humming and licking and kissing and sucking until Geno is relaxed and loose enough under Sid’s mouth that Sid thinks he could dare to take the next step _._

When Sid finally pushes the tip of his tongue _inside_ , Geno shakes like a leaf, making desperate noises, but when Sid goes to do it again, Geno says, “Stop, Sid.”

Sid freezes. Apprehension starts to bubble up in the pit of his stomach. “What did I do – fuck, Geno, I’m sorry—”

Geno flails around with one hand searching for Sid’s head – when he finds it, he pats Sid reassuringly. “Is okay, not any wrong, Sid. Just—legs not keep.”

Geno’s English frequently deteriorates during sex, but Sid can usually understand him anyway. He repeats dumbly, “Legs not keep?” He sees Geno straightening up – _it’s over_ , he thinks, crushed. He’d thought he was doing well, that Geno liked it as much as he did.

But as Geno flips off the water, he says, “Feel so good, legs all jelly. You do more here, I fall and then is ouch. Come on, bed, Sid.”

 _Oh_ , Sid thinks, dazed with the whiplash between disappointment and relief. _Oh. I wasn’t doing bad – I was doing_ too good _. Awesome. That’s awesome._

Geno tugs Sid along behind him out of the shower and then right out of the bathroom.

“Don’t you want to dry off—” Sid tries.

“No,” Geno says, single-minded. “Want _more_.”

Well. Sid can’t complain about that.

Geno flops down face-first on the bed with his legs hanging off the side, then gestures imperiously at his ass, clearly indicating _Get on with it_.

Sid cracks up – partly because that’s objectively hilarious, and partly in relief now that he knows he hasn’t done anything wrong.

“Not laugh, _lick_ ,” Geno insists.

“Okay, okay,” Sid says peaceably, and he does.

Sid’s got a different perspective than usual, down here, but the signs of Geno’s building pleasure come through just the same. Sid can hear Geno’s moans getting wilder and wilder, disintegrating into Russian that Sid recognizes just enough to know that it’s filthy; he can feel when Geno shifts up on his toes so he can shove a hand underneath himself to wrap around his cock.

Sid pulls back long enough to check, “You want to come like this?” which Geno greets with fierce Russian cursing.

“ _Lick_!” he demands, shoving his ass back toward Sid shamelessly and whimpering when Sid doesn’t get his mouth back in action fast enough.

Sid is so fucking hard that his dick _aches_ , and it’s agony not having a hand free to touch himself… but he can ignore that for now. He can tell it won’t be long.

He keeps his mouth working—wet, swirling kisses and slow thrusts with his tongue—and when he hears Geno wail and feels every one of Geno’s muscles go taut, he knows Geno’s tipped over the edge. Sid gentles his tongue and covers Geno’s entrance with soft, sweet little licks while Geno’s body rides out the aftershocks of his orgasm in beautiful shivers.

Slurring his words, Geno asks, “Sid, you come?”

Sid just barely gets out his “No—” before Geno makes a dissatisfied noise.

“Up, up,” he urges, flapping his hand at Sid until he gets to his feet, dick bobbing. Geno reaches underneath himself, still bent over the side of the bed, and palms the inside of his own thigh. “Here, you—here—”

Sid nods frantically even though Geno can’t see it. “Yeah, I’ll… yeah, just let me—”

He reaches for the lube with one hand while he slides the other into that smooth, snug place between Geno’s thighs. He realizes, suddenly, that Geno’s legs are trembling, and it makes something sizzle at the base of his spine. _I did that_ , he thinks, dazed. _I made that feeling for Geno_.

Geno is rasping, “ _In_ , Sid,” craning his neck to give Sid an insistent look over his shoulder.

As soon as he’s slicked up, Sid replaces his hand with his dick, shuddering as Geno’s legs close around him. He’s so close already that it doesn’t take more than a dozen thrusts for him to follow Geno over the edge, hands splayed greedily over Geno’s hip and belly. His breath comes out as a sob, wet and desperate into the hollow of Geno’s spine, and Geno murmurs comforting nonsense to him in Russian as he comes down from the high.

Somehow the two of them make it onto the bed, still breathing hard and red in the face, staring at each other like dopes until Sid has to laugh and look away.

Geno catches his hand and tugs on it. “Kisses, Sid,” he appeals, “need kisses.”

Sid raises an eyebrow. “You remember where my mouth has been, right?” He’d be perfectly happy to kiss Geno, himself, but he wouldn’t blame Geno for feeling differently about it.

Geno, however, gives Sid a look that says he thinks Sid is being very silly.

Then his expression changes – his eyelids sink down halfway, his lips curve up just at the corners, and his gaze fastens intently on Sid’s mouth. “Oh, yes,” he murmurs, sweet and slow as dripping honey, “I’m remember this mouth. _Best_ mouth.” He reaches out to run his thumb over Sid’s lips, back and forth, hypnotic. Sid swallows, and his spent dick twitches.

He’s fantasized about this: about Geno touching and praising his mouth, about Geno lying in bed, languid with satiation, because Sid’s mouth made him feel so good. It’s different than how he fantasized about it before the bond crisis—he used his mouth in a different way, tonight, than he’d pictured back then—but it’s just as good as he’d imagined. The _how_ doesn’t matter as much as he’d thought it would, compared to the end result: Geno’s thumb on Sid’s lips, possessive and reverent, and Sid’s memories of the way Geno fell apart under Sid’s tongue.

Geno’s eyes are still fixed on Sid’s lips as he says, “Best mouth, yes… and of course I want kiss from best mouth. Want a lot, Sid, I—” He breaks off, shaking his head, and meets Sid’s eyes. Then he leans in close to Sid, slow and careful, giving Sid time to back off… but Sid isn’t interested in backing off, and he leans close, too, just the few inches he needs so that he can kiss Geno’s waiting lips.

It’s pretty much the perfect post-sex kiss: warm and comforting, full of connection, but with a core of heat. When Sid finally breaks the kiss, he can feel the brightness of the bond between them, stronger than ever.

“You know I’m not think about before,” Geno whispers, confessional, into the warm inch of air between their lips. “When you tell me, I’m expect maybe weird, maybe not like, but I’m just not _know_ , you know, not think. I like you touch me there, so why not like touch with mouth also? But if you wait for me to say, I’m never, because I’m just not know,” he says, matter-of-factly. He pulls back enough that he can look Sid in the eye, but his arm stays strong and sure around Sid’s back. “So I’m happy you ask, Sid. Is good you ask. Because I don’t know all, and if I don’t know what you want then I, um… miss, is right? Or, uh, miss out of?”

“I’m happy I asked, too,” Sid agrees, giving Geno a quick smile. But there’s more to it than that, and he wants to be as honest with Geno as Geno’s been with him. “It’s—it’s hard for me to ask,” he admits, low, talking to Geno’s collarbone instead of his face because it's easier. “It’s hard for me to trust that I know where the line is between asking and pushing. But I trust you to stand up for yourself—if I try to push, you won’t let me. So it’s okay,” he concludes, dropping his shields to let Geno feel his faith, his determination. He looks up at Geno and promises, “So I will, G. I’ll ask more. Because I wouldn’t have wanted to miss out on this, either. God, you were so hot, so amazing…”

Geno turns a little pink along the tops of his cheeks, and interrupts, “But you most hot, too, so hot for me to feel—”

And then they’re kissing again, a little deeper, a little wetter, even though they know it’s not going anywhere right now – it’s just good to feel that heat again, to share it with each other.

Between kisses, Geno murmurs into Sid’s cheek, shyly, “Someday, maybe, if you want, if you feel ready… I do for you.”

There was a time when hearing Geno say that might have made Sid feel anxious, worried that Geno needed more than what Sid was already giving… but he knows better, now. His ear is tuned to the _someday_ and the _if you feel ready_ , and he’s got a lot of faith in the fact that Geno loves the sex they're already having. Instead, when Sid’s heart thumps in his chest, it’s from want. But he remembers that Geno had thought the idea of rimming was weird, at first, and he stammers, “Oh, you don’t have to—I mean, just because you like it one way doesn’t mean you’ll like it the other way, and I wouldn’t blame—”

But Geno pulls back to look at him and says, in a voice that has strong overtones of _duh_ , “Sid. Is have sex by put my _face_ in your _ass_. How I’m not think best?”

Sid has to admit, “You do get pretty excited about getting your face all up close and personal with my ass.”

“Yes. So is obvious,” Geno sniffs. “Of course I want.” Then he perks up. “I’m have all new jerk-off fantasies now,” he says happily. “Is exciting!”

Sid laughs softly. “Good.”

After another round of kisses—this one slower, with lips barely open—Geno rolls onto his back with an air of satisfaction, and his eyes slip shut. After a long sigh, he mumbles, “Sid, I have new plan for tonight.”

Sid blinks. “Okay…” He’s not sure either of them have the energy for more, but he’s game to hear the plan, at least.

It turns out he and Geno are on the same page: Geno mumbles, eyes still closed, “Plan is I lie here and be lazy and you get washcloth and clean me up and then we sleep. Good plan?”

“Ha.” Sid rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t actually mind – since he’s the one who got Geno all messy, it’s only fair for him to be the one getting the washcloth. “Back in a second, okay?”

“Mmhmm,” Geno says, wiggling back and forth a little in the sheets, getting settled in. He’s awake enough to hum with pleasure while Sid cleans him up, but when Sid gets back from hanging up the washcloth in the bathroom, Geno’s out. He can stay awake after sex as long as there’s something important to talk about, Sid’s noticed—but as soon as Geno’s sure that Sid doesn’t need his brain working anymore, he’s out like a light, more often than not. It’s sweet.

Sid studies him: the softness of his face, relaxed in sleep; the beautiful sprawl of his lanky limbs; the subtle, precious rise and fall of his chest. _I’m so fucking lucky_ , Sid thinks, as he climbs into bed and pulls the sheets up over them both. “Sleep tight,” he whispers to Geno; then he fits his own body into the curve of Geno’s and closes his eyes, letting the rhythm of Geno’s breathing carry him down.


End file.
